Black Sort of Luck
by ShadowInTheHall
Summary: Altair Morten is possibly insane. Remus Lupin is the only one she trusts, aside from the talking cat Machiavelli. Sirius is the black sort of luck that happens to her all the time. No pun intended. SiriusxOc RemusxOc JamesxLily Peter bashing
1. Meet Insanity

The small black cat kept stride with a small eleven year old girl in a dark red hooded cloak. On the girls other side trotted an equal sized reddish brown cat. She was quiet and kept her head down as she entered the common room of Gryffindor Tower. Several of the girls turned to watch her walk past the crowd and up the staircase. One of them directed a male friend to stand on the steps so they would turn into a slide. The black cat jumped to her shoulder and the red cat jumped into her arms. She stood on the banister until the stairs returned to normal. When the girl reached her room, she pulled the bed curtains closed and cast a protection charm.

In the morning, the girl found the contents of her trunk sprawled all over the common room. Someone had cast a sticking charm on her trunk, which was now attached to the ceiling. With a sad sigh, the girl began gathering her belongings. So she could better assess the room, she pulled her hood down. Her hair was dark brown, almost black, and in ringlet curls. The cats gathered clothing items as she recovered her books. Soft footsteps sounded on the balcony. A tired brown-haired boy stopped in his tracks.

"A-Altair?" he asked. She froze and turned around slowly. "What happened?" she shook her head slowly.

"It's okay, Remus." Altair spoke quietly. "I'll be in fourth year Potions and Charms next year." He nodded. "It's my own fault. Machiavelli…" the black cat was about to sharpen his claws on a couch.

"It isn't a bad thing you're excelling, but why is your stuff strewn about?"

"The others did it. I'll pick it up." He sighed.

"If you would hang out with us-"

"Thank you, but the Marauders are gods. I would be subject to more of this." she swept her arm around the room. One of her books was in the fireplace. Luckily, it had been charmed invincible along with the others. She retrieved it. Her red cat took her wand from behind a bookcase. "Thank you Siriet."

"You're welcome." she replied. Altair flicked her wand and summoned her clothes and books.

"Will you be okay over Christmas break?"

"Will you be okay next week?"

"What?"

"Full moons are bad for one's health, you know." Remus shook his head.

"I understand you don't want to talk about it, but-"

"Chocolate will help your moon-sickness." She pulled her hood back up. Someone else graced them with his presence.

"Moony, what in the name of sanity are you doing up? It's not even six…."

"Trying to convince Altair-"

"I would suggest these, myself." A box floated to Remus. Inside were chocolate frogs, truffles, and a small stack of Germany imported candy bars. "Keep it." She flicked her wand, and the black leather and walnut trunk fell from the ceiling.

"What's that for?" Sirius asked.

"Moon-sickness." Remus replied. Altair waved her wand again. The clothes re-folded themselves while the books lined up, alphabetized. Altair sealed the trunk with a NeverOpen spell, and put an EverStick charm between it and the wall.

"Mac, Sir, come on." She walked through the painting.

"Now that's one weird girl."

"You, at one time, had the capacity to become just like her. She never had friends."

"For as big of a mystery that girl is, you sure know a lot about her." Sirius said. "Do some summer stalking, did we?" he winked. Remus sighed tiredly.

"For petesake, we lived near each other."

"Who's Pete?"

Altair Morten despised everything about herself, but accepted it with a somber realization that these things could not be changed. She was pureblooded, highly intelligent, and very much disliked by every one. Aside from the two cats who accompanied her, Remus Lupin was the only person who she might dare to call a friend. For different reasons, his parents were less than happy with him, and he was less than pleased with himself. She had never straight out asked if he was a werewolf, but for years Altair had known. She was an animagus, but something had gone wrong somewhere, because she had more than one animal form. Yet another trait to add to her "Differences" list. Her skin accepted no tanning, and her hair accepted no dye or styling attempt. When face to face with someone else, her most noticeable trait was the colour of her eyes. Purple. Not violet or indigo, but half-red-half-blue purple.

"At least I'll never have a stalker." she said out loud. Altair walked through the Forbidden Forest, trying to find the talking wild dog she had become acquainted with.

"Right next to a mountain

There once was a hill

Where lived a young wolf-dog

Who wrote out his will.

The rest said he was crazy;

Death's not there so soon.

They called his mind hazy,

Him, a ranting buffoon.

When he had died

Nobody knew

So nobody cried

Not even his crew."

"Siriet," the black cat said, "do you have to sing that depressing song?"

"No." she replied. "But I do." Altair smiled. None of them could find the wild dog.

"Al, it's nearly seven. Shouldn't we be headed to Transfiguration?"

"No, Mac. I don't feel like going."

* * *

"Sirius," Remus whispered. Surius's head snapped up and looked around. "Sleeping again?"

"Why did you wake me? I was on a date with Cassandra and Kathryn!" he whispered back.

"The Mayrne twins? Some on, Sir, at least pick someone with _half_ a brain!"

"That's the beauty of it! Between them both, they have about half a brain!"

"Be ser-" Remus stopped and cleared his throat. Sirius raised his eyebrows in amusement at his friend's half-finished pun. "Look, it's almost eight."

"Thirty-two minutes and I'm free to go." McGonagall turned toward her class.

"This weekend's homework is a five page essay on the pros and cons of human Transfiguration." The class groaned.

"Yes, thirty-two minutes left, and Altair isn't here."

"So?"

"Not everyone skips class simply because it's Friday." Remus said irritated. Altair showed up halfway through her next period Charms with no explanation. The professor didn't really expect one. She was present in History of Magic, and Potions. All four Marauders had Defense Against the Dark Arts together. Remus caught up to the hooded figure.

"Hey, what happened earlier? You weren't in Transfiguration."

"I know."

"Are you okay?"

"I just didn't feel like going. Maybe it was the air of a Friday." Remus laughed.

"Now you sound like Sirius." he saw his three other friends ahead of them. "Do you know what we're doing today?"

"Hn. I know what _I'm _doing today." she said.

"What's that mean?"

"I'm going to the Forbidden Forest. My mother sent me a letter this morning. She's tearing out my garden to put in a spa treatment center for their family that's coming out this summer."

"So where does the forest fit into this?"

"I need some ingredients for a few spells, and I can only get them there. Not to mention Devil's Snare seeds." Remus momentarily looked horrified. His walking paused. The Marauders and Altair looked back at him.

"Altair! You've never taken revenge on _anyone_!"

"Don't think of it as 'revenge'. Think of it as 'time-released justice'. Anyway, my garden is all the way across the property. She's going out of her way to destroy the only thing I take joy in. Like your mother locking you up without visitors, or…"

"I get the idea." Remus didn't want to think about that.

"Anyway, once she tears it up, she'll abandon the idea and build it closer to the house. In four years, I can move in with Lyrae." Altair walked straight past the Defense Against the Dark Arts room. She was present in the next class, Care for Magical Creatures, and Hagrid let her play with the Fire Spidrens. She scared the hell out of half the class, having the spider-like creatures weave elaborate designs only to burn them up. One was a trellis walkway that passed over the students. The year ended sooner than most would have liked. Altair, Siriet, and Machiavelli departed from the train station and disappeared. No one expected to see her or her cats until the second year began.


	2. I'm Throwing Up, But I'm Not Sick

The Sorting had ended. Remus looked around.

"James, do you see Altair?"

"No. Wait, that's the blonde?"

"Dark brown."

"Oh. Then no." Sirius, sitting on Remus's other side, spoke. He had impaled a baked potato on a fork, and was balancing the fork on his nose.

"Hey, I was meaning to ask-" the end of the fork slipped off his nose and the potato landed on the floor with a splat. "Oh. Well anyway, is this the girl you were talking about?" He pulled a copy of the Daily Prophet out of his school robes. On the front cover was a black and white picture of a hooded figure squirming away from one Rigel Morten. The hood fell and dark hair tumbled down. The figure looked at the camera with wide insane eyes, and screamed angrily.

"JUVENILLE WITCH INSANE." Remus read. "_That's_ insane!" He watched the figure attempt to break free from her older brother again. Remus saw the angry snarl on Altair's face. Her eyes screamed for help, while her brother wore a smug look on his face.

"Young Altair Morten, an heir of the oldest pureblood family, attempted to murder her family, according to her mother. "She had traps set up around the house. The stairs turned to slides, the knives attacked us, our water came out of the fixtures boiling hot! My youngest child, my precious daughter planted Devil's Snare in the hallways! What have I done to deserve such attempts on my life, from my own child, nonetheless?!" Spica Morten asked. Her father, Cephus Morten, grimly reported he "knew it would happen eventually. She was never a normal one."

Remus skipped the next paragraph, detailing her various "assassination attempts".

Another relative, Ms. Antares Morten, commented on her niece. "Her parents are the crazy ones. They torment and yell at Altair. She did this because her parents destroyed the garden she's been working on for three years now! Those vines were only in the hallway in the attic that lead to her room. She wouldn't kill anyone. Never."

Remus put the paper down in disbelief. The last sentence declared that she would be sent to St. Caroline's Island to "get the help she so desperately needs" rather that start her second year at Hogwarts. He shook his head in thought. St. Caroline's Island was where they sent witches and wizards who were never recovering. The Azkaban inmates who were not scheduled for execution, but were too far gone to stay at Azkaban were sent there.

"So was it her?" Sirius asked, flicking peas at Peter.

"Yeah. It's her."

"Never did get a good look at her face. I've gotta say, she does look pretty crazy." Remus surmised he hadn't actually read the article.

"Just wait, Sirius. One day, I'll have a picture where _you_ look that loony." Second year passed. James, Remus, Sirius, and Peter all went home with the rest of the school.

* * *

After the third sorting they sat through, Remus looked around, but without much hope. Altair was not there.

* * *

Fourth year came, and Remus looked about haphazardly. She was not present. Sirius got up to retrieve a wind-up rat he had set loose. Remus felt the thwump when he sat back down.

"You don't have to plop down to announce you're there." he sighed.

"Oh. Okay. But if I didn't, you wouldn't turn around, and you'd think I was Sirius." Slowly, he turned to find a purple-eyed, dark brown-haired, pale faced girl in a grey wool hooded cloak.

"A-Altair?"

"Nope. Sirius. Really, Remus." She looked at him critically. "I'm kidding. How…umm….Well, you look better." she offered.

"Are you okay? Did you escape? Were you let out?"

"Would've been great if I escaped… No, after a few weeks, the presiding doctor said I was fine. It didn't stop the others from doing tests on me, though. After he found out, the doctor stopped them. He even contacted Dumbldore and got schoolwork for me. Not that I much ever _cared _for it, but oh well_._"

"Why were you there?"

"Did you read the article? It was on the front page."

"Yeah."

"Let me clear this up. Only three of the nine staircases were people proofed. And the knives? My mother threw them at me. I merely returned them to her. Poisonous reptiles were directed to Rigel's room, cuz he screams like a girl. And it was funny. The library I set on fire? A **small** collection of Dark Arts books that ought not to be in existence."

"What about the rest of it?"

"Ah, well, y'see...nope. That stuff was exactly like that."

"So your parents kept you there?"

"Yeah. _Finally_ the old dragon lady disowned me. I'm living with my aunt Antares and my cousin Lyrae."

"I'm glad you're back." Remus smiled.

"So how's your…problem been?"

"Chocolate does help."

"Good. Well, I'm going to bed." Altair rose and pulled up her hood. A small black cat followed her.

Late in the night, the Marauders were still having a welcome back party in their room. A firecracker in Moony's possession somehow became lit and exploded in his hand. He went to Madame Pomfrey to get it fixed. The only other person he trusted to fix it properly and not ask a book's worth of questions was Lily Evans, and she was asleep in the girls' dormitories. Up in the boys' dorms, James heard the painting open and close.

"Hey, Padfoot, go check on Moony, wouldja?"

"Sure thing, Prongs." Sirius walked through the hall and out to the stairs. He paused. Someone was vomiting. There was someone by the painting door, hunched over the garbage bin next to the marble table. "Moony?" Sirius descended the stairs. The figure retched again, and sat up as he approached.

"He's….staying…overnight." a female voice replied.

"How do you know?"

"I was just in…the hospital…wing."

"Maybe you should have stayed." he remarked skeptically. She cleared her throat.

"But I'm not sick." she said. She stood, and attempted to walk a few steps, before falling down. "Ow."

"Are you okay? Did you eat something?" She sat up again. The firelight cast from the embers caught the bright purple of her eyes, making them seem to glow.

"I think I swallowed wolfsbane." She shook her head. "Let's see…this foot goes here…" the girl lifted her right leg from the under her and put her foot on the floor.

"Are you Altair?"

"Yeah. By the way, thank that uncle of yours. Alphard, I think. He's the only one with any damn sense around that damn place."

"O…kay. Do you need help?" Altair pulled her left foot up, so she was squatting.

"No. I've got this." Without warning, she fell to the side unconscious. Sirius ran back upstairs.

"James, what do you do for wolfsbane poisoning?"

"Administer the antidote, of course." he replied airily.

"No. Remus's friend, the one they put in the loony bin for Antics, is here, and she's sick."

"Oh." James put the bottle of nail polish down. Peter had fallen asleep first, and the price was sparkly green toenails. "I'm sure Remus would….oh. Well, Lily might…wait." James thought for a moment. "Sorry. I've got no clue."

"What do we do, then? We can't get into the girls' rooms."

"The hospital wing…"

"That's too far." Sirius complained.

"I uh..."

* * *

**Yeah. This was fun. Thanks to Jellybean for the review.**

**-S**


	3. Nothing Wrong With Flying

Morning came. _I think it's morning… _Altair thought. _Hmm…I wonder where my stuff is today….No, before that, I want to know what this smell is._ She inhaled. _Honey, some kind of fruit? I don't know. Hey, that sounds like Remus…he sounds mad. Wait, why is Remus here? _Altair sat up too fast. She fell over the edge of the bed. Someone laughed.

"Ow…" she looked around. "Where am I?! Mac! Mac? Machiavelli!"

"Altair!" Remus was surprised. The dark curly haired head poking out from under the covers _didn't_ belong to Sirius. "Then . . . Where's Sirius?"

"Forget Sirius! Where am I?!" Altair was panicking. Her cloak was gone, her shoes were gone, and Machiavelli was no where to be found. She couldn't remember why, but her stomach was twisted into knots. James looked to his left and poked Sirius in the ribs.

"Gack! I didn't know it would explode!" he rolled off the bed and sat up, so his head was visible. "Hello James. Mind telling me what's going on here?" Remus shook his head.

"What are you doing? It's eleven!"

"E-eleven?!" Altair tried to stand, but fell.

"Hold still." Remus walked around the end of James's bed to help Altair.

"Now that I'm back where I started, where. Am. I?" she asked again.

"You're in our room." Remus said. "But I have no idea why." he turned to face Sirius and James.

"Last night, she was sick and we couldn't take her to the girls' rooms." James explained.

"Before she passed out, she said she ate some wolfsbane." Sirius added.

"Oh…" Altair remembered being in the Forbidden Forest meeting with….someone, then throwing up, then….nothing.

"Look, what ever. Just get ready, you two." It was then that she noticed Peter was absent. There was a scratching at the door. As Sirius opened it, a black blur busted in and leapt at Altair.

"Machiavelli!"

"Where were you?" the cat asked. "You never showed! I thought they-" Altair held Mac's mouth closed.

"I was…here. I had some issues with my health. Later." James rubbed his eyes.

"Well, I suppose a talking cat isn't the weirdest thing I've ever seen at Hogwarts. . . " Altair ran her fingers through her hair and found her shoes. Her cloak nearby. "Come on, Mac." she stumbled toward the door.

"Can you make it okay?" Remus asked.

"Yeah. I'm perfectly capable of walking. I have to get to Herbology on-" Altair tripped over Sirius, who was crawling around in search of his shoes, "time." She stood back up.

"Did you try your bed, Sir?" James suggested.

"That's brilliant! Why didn't I think of it?"

"I'm not quite sure, Padfoot."

"I'll walk you down there." Remus said to Altair. She was leaning against the wall.

"No." She said. Altair lowered her voice to her normal volume level. "Why does everyone think I can't walk on my own?"

"I'll do it." Sirius offered.

"I've already clarified the fact that I am perfectly capable of getting to my class alone." She pulled her hood up and walked out the door. Remus and Sirius each grabbed hold of an arm as James scrambled to find his school robes. When they reached the stairs, Altair tried again to walk on her own. Machiavelli was a few steps ahead of her, and looked back intermittently.

"Remus!" James called. "Have you seen my Potions book?"

"Wait here." Remus threw an exasperated glance toward their room. Despite being told not to move, Altair started down the stairs again. Sirius's grip on her arm threw her balance off, and she tumbled forward.

"I thought Moony told you not to move." Sirius commented. "How do you two know each other, anyway?"

"Not that it's your concern, but we live near each other."

"Sirius Black!" He looked up and grinned. A red headed girl stood in the middle of the common room, looking positively furious.

"Hello, Lily." He was amused.

"What do you think you're doing?! This is the first night back at Hogwarts and you-"

"Lily?" Remus came back down the stairs. "What did Sirius do this time?" he sighed.

"He's got a girl on the-"

"No, no. That's my friend. She was sick last night and couldn't get back to her room."

"So…"

"No, Lily. He didn't."

"Oh." the girl, obviously identified as Lily, looked around. "What happened?" she asked.

"I swallowed something I shouldn't have." Altair replied, no louder than she had to. She yanked her arm away from Sirius and, with a firm grip on the hand rail, made her way to the bottom of the stairs. Her equilibrium was off for some reason, and she didn't feel like walking.

"Where are you going, Altair?" Remus asked.

"Herbology." Altair paused at the bottom of the stairs and pulled out her wand, mumbling something incomprehensible. A sleek black broomstick with dyed purple bristles flew from the girls' dorms and into her waiting hand. With her head down, Altair walked out into the main castle with Machiavelli on her shoulder.

"If you can't walk, do you think you should be flying to class? Through the castle no less?" he asked, as Altair flew down a corridor, not attracting attention from more than three people.

"If you'd like to walk, be my guest. And, look at this." she turned into the Great Hall and flew out one of the Owl Mail windows. "I'm not in the castle." After Herbology class, Altair wasn't seen until half an hour into Divination, where everyone was partnered up for palm reading.

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**Thank you to Freakstar for your review! I love you! Okay...This chapter is short. / Well, I can only hope the next one turns out longer. Until the next chapter,  
-S**


	4. Palmistry With Padfoot

**So I know Professor Trelawney comes into the story like...the... okay, so I don't remember which book it was. I didn't want to create a new character, and the old Divination teacher ian't mentioned. Think of this lady as her aunt or something. Maybe her mother? Anyway, sorry if this chapter is kind of boring. I was bored when I wrote it.**

* * *

Divination:

"I'm going to assume you're-" A woman with thick glasses started.

"Late." Altair cut in. "I was…in the hospital wing."

"Very well. Who is without a partner?" she looked about the room. "Ah, Mr. Black, who was also late, still remains partner less." She pointed across the room. There were two tables, small and round, next to each other. Remus sat across from James, while Sirius sat next to James at the other table. Lucky that she sat near someone she knew (Remus), Altair cursed the black sort of luck (no pun intended) that followed her as she took her seat across from Sirius.

"Are you still sick?" Remus asked.

"Just as sick as you are." she replied quietly.

"That's awfully cryptic of you." James said.

"So, Wolfsbane," Sirius shook his hair out of his face, "where were you _really_?"

"Don't call me that. And where I _was_ is none of your concern." Altair said, again, quietly, but with a warning in her voice. Before a fight could start, Remus cut in.

"There's a large map of the palm up at the front. If you have your book, it's got a map and explanations on page 503." Altair pulled her Divination book seemingly out of nowhere. She sighed and held out her hand expectantly. Sirius placed his hand palm up for her to inspect.

"You're very loyal to those you respect. You have a short, unhealthy life if you continue on the path you're on. When you proclaim love, it is a shallow affection, and you find no peace with your family." James and Remus stared at her wide-eyed, and Sirius inspected his palm.

"You got Padfoot dead on." James said. "How did you do that?"

"Have you studied palmistry before?" Remus asked.

"No. That's just what the lines mean." Sirius opened his book and grabbed Altair's hand.

"Okay, let's see…You're choosy and indecisive, with more than one point of view, um, and you….had two childhoods? Wait, that doesn't sound right."

"You're getting the limes mixed up." Altair said. James was sniggering at Sirius's failure. She pointed to a curved line near her fingers. "This is the heart line. It's curved and chained, the curve indicating active participation in romantic matters, while the chained aspect shows a difficulty in trusting anyone. The one that curves around the thumb is the lifeline. If the head line, the one above the life line is deeper, it indicates the person is more mentally active than physically active. These outturning lines off the life line show a love of travel."

"So what's it mean when this end curves over here?"

"That's the Apollo mount. It indicates…monetary gain. The head line usually ends under the ring finger, and this one goes to the end of my palm."

"So you think a lot?"

"Correct. A straight head line means clear and focused thought. Curved indicates one who enjoys playing with new ideas."

"Wait. It's straight to here, _then_ it curves down. And that means… creative, concentrated thought?" Altair nodded. He conferred with his book. "You have the ability to see more than one point of view, and have a creative mind. And the fate line is…"

"Right under the ring finger."

"Right. You're unsettled and," he glanced at the book, "will slow in old age. It's tied to the heart line, so you had a restricted childhood."

"Very good."

"Wow! Moony, I think Padfoot just learned something!"

"Very funny, Prongs.." Sirius hit James on the arm. "Now that we've finished that, what do we do?"

"I'm not sure." Remus said.

"Where's Peter?" Altair asked, suddenly feeling uncomfortable, in his place with the others and no business left to take care of.

"Oh, funny thing." James said. "Last year, Professor Trelawney scared him so bad with a 'horrible death' prediction, he made special arrangements with Dumbledore to never come back."

"I see." Altair looked down to see Mac. "What?"

"Oh, I just thought you should know Hogwarts has a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

"Who?" The three Marauders looked at her strangely. They couldn't hear Machiavelli, or see him for that matter. He was on the other side of the table by Altair's leg.

"One Cassiopeia Morten-Venatici."

"Oh dear merciful gods that be with the stars." She stood up and headed to the professor's desk. "I need to see the Headmaster immediately."

"Do you, my dear?" The professor seemed uninterested.

"I've completed the task. Ask any of those three." Without waiting for an answer, Altair walked out of the room. She grabbed the sleek black broom resting outside the door, and jumped out the nearest window, flying as far as she could outside of the castle. After walking through winding hallways, Altair came across two stone gargoyles.

"Password?" one asked.

"Uhhh……Melon rings?" The gargoyles looked at each other.

"Sure, kid. That's not it, but uh,"

"Dumbledore said you might come." A staircase opened. Mac went first, then Altair. She stopped at the door, fist raised to knock.

"Come in." She entered. "Ah, Miss Morten. How are you?"

"Not to disrespect one of the ONLY two people who saw I wasn't insane, but, cut the niceties. I need to…how do I say this…be _out_ of Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"Why? Because your aunt is the new instructor?"

"She's evil. Demented, even. Not to mention my whole family doesn't like me." Altair pulled her hood down. "With the exception of an aunt and a cousin. My own mother threw knives at me, and my older brother found a spell to jumble my brain!"

"Who, then, would you suggest?"

"I don't know… Mo-Remus?"

"You know, when second year started, Mr. Lupin came up to ask about you. He's a good friend." he changed the subject.

"I am fully aware of this, sir. However, I will make a conscientious decision to take double Potions, no, double History of Magic rather than Dark Arts. I don't even like that class! I just know she'll turn it into a blood purity discussion. Then my bloodline will be brought up. I really don't need that."

"Your heritage is a special one. Are you not proud?"

"No. No, I am not 'proud', because it is a cursed thing, bringing forth discrimination, wars, death, and misfortune. Purity is a prat's belief. I'm sorry, but, that's what I told my sister." The old wizard studied her through half moon glasses.

"Magic is strong in you." Before he could continue, Altair held her hand up.

"Sorry to interrupt, but I wanted a pass, not a therapy session. Since I'm not in the mood for talking, I'm going to leave." Altair opened the door, grabbed her broom, walked across the office, and flew out a window, grey hood pulled up.

"Such an interesting child." he chuckled. "Why couldn't her brother have been like that?" Dumbledore wondered out loud.

"So shouldn't you head back to Divination?" Mac asked.

"No. I've got to see the centaurs."

"Can I go with you this time?" Altair dropped in altitude. Her hood had fallen down, so her dark curly hair was blowing in the wind.

"Do you think you could not talk in front of people for a while?" she asked.

"Sure."

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**Here's where I thank Freakstar for her review, and FollowingTheInkTrail especially for reviewing every individual chapter. Thank you two for reviewing. I love you guys! Reviews mave me feel special. **


	5. To Be Kicked Out of Bed

**Well, I have to agree with Freakstar. Chapter Four was not my favourite chapter, and I'm not thinking so highly of this one, either. I think it's better than the last one, though.**

**Thanks, Freakstar, for your review. X)**

* * *

Defense Against the Dark Arts was cancelled for the day; the new teacher wasn't prepared. The Marauders sat in the common room after dinner.

"Where's your friend, Moony?" James asked.

"I don't know. I haven't seen her since Divination."

"That was really weird. Is she a gypsy or something?" Sirius asked.

"I don't think so." Remus replied.

"Oh, Wormtail, you missed it! I know Professor Trelawney scared the crap outta you, but in Divination today, Altair read Sir's palm dead on!" James explained excitedly. Peter looked to Sirius.

"It's true."

"I wanna see if she can read mine." James said. The fat lady painting swung away from the wall. Standing, barely, with her broom employed as a walking stick, Altair entered the common room and walked to the least crowded couch; the couch in front of the fireplace. She looked at the first year, who was doing nothing in particular, with the most venomous glare she could muster.

"Remove yourself, if you value your soul." He looked up, startled.

"Wha- Wha?" Altair growled like a dragon. The frightened first year stumbled away quickly. She flopped down on the couch, stretched out, and promptly fell asleep. An hour later, Mac woke her to go upstairs. She laid in her bed and faded into sleep without her usual protection charm. Twenty minutes after that, Altair woke to someone drawing the bed curtains open. A tall brown haired girl by the name of Whats-her-face Elana accused her of threatening her little brother. Altair found herself being lifted, carried, and falling. '_Not falling.'_ she thought '_This hurts too much. It's more like tumbling. _OW!' She stopped abruptly.

"Are you okay?" Altair opened one eye. She was laying against the leg of a rickety wooden table.

"Am I….What….where did I …." she sat up. The Marauders had been playing poker. Altair rose suddenly and tripped her way to the garbage can, throwing up everything that had not been digested, including tell-tale white flowers.

"Are you okay?" Remus asked again when she stood and faced them.

"What happened?"

"Mary Eleno tossed you down the stairs." Sirius replied.

"…………Why?"

"Did you do something to Trevor?" James asked.

"Who? No." Altair thought. "There was this one kid…"

"Ya hit 'im?" James asked, perking up.

"No. I told him to move if he valued his soul…I……might have…….growled a bit."

"That would be it, Wolfsbane." Sirius said. She turned her head a fraction of an inch toward the garbage, thinking of the flowers.

"Don't call me Wolfsbane." Altair said. She sighed and headed to the couch.

"Where are you going?" Remus asked.

"To sleep."

"But your room's-"

"I believe I was, rather effectively, and quite literally, thrown out of my room." she sat cross legged on the couch she had napped on not thirty minutes ago.

At the end of their poker game, Remus went to check on Altair. She was sitting up, asleep.

"Sirius, could you help me?"

"With what, mate?"

"Altair. She can sleep on my bed. I'd feel too bad leaving her down here."

"Sure."

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_Something about this dream was not right. There were wolves and dogs everywhere. No moon was out, but Altair could see. Despite the snarl on its face, the blue eyed wolf exuded trust, wisdom, and friendliness. So did this enormous black dog. Grey eyed and growling calmly, this was the Grim. Surely she had befriended Death. After her family's Muggle Hunts, how could a Morten _not _know Death personally. _'_You aren't here to eat me, are you?' The dogs backed up. A tall human with a pale complexion and dark curly hair approached. 'I see. I cannot escape my blood, can I?' The figure shook its head. 'But I _will _escape my family.' A wind shook the earth, and one by one the dogs disappeared, leaving the figure and Altair. The very air itself turned to particles of light to reveal the face of--_

Altair awoke with a start. This was not a couch. This was a bed. Not hers. A sweet fruit smell surrounded her, with a trace of…animal. Remus was in the bed across from hers. _Again, this is not my bed. This must be Sirius's. When did I get here?_ The owner of the bed was next to James, on her left. Most of the surface of Remus's bed was covered in books and papers. Altair rose, donned her shoes, and left silently. In the girls' rooms, no one was awake. She grabbed a clean set of clothing and a hooded cloak along with her schoolbag and left to shower. Altair dried her hair with her wand, watching it curl, then made her way to the Hogwarts Kitchen by use of a secret passage four other people knew of.

"Is Linden here?" she asked. A blue house elf ran to meet her.

"Miss Altair! You're back! Linden was afraid-" Altair held her hand up and smiled.

"Yes. I'm sorry Linden was so worried. You know what the students like to eat, yes?"

"Linden knows! She remembers what they eat!" the elf exclaimed excitedly.

"Good. Will you make the favourite foods of Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, James Potter, and Peter Pettigrew?"

"Yes! Linden will make them right away!"

"Thank you, Linden." Altair stood quietly and watched the staff of house elves and two humans prepare the daily breakfast feast. They went about their business unperturbed, as they were quite used to her silent presence. A little while later, Linden returned with a large tray of food. She pointed out who ate what, and relinquished the tray.

"Thank you, Linden." she said again, before bowing and leaving. When she reached the common room, she cast a Disillusionment charm on herself so she would appear to be Remus carrying a large stack of books, in case anyone woke up. She entered their room quietly and distributed the food to their nightstands. She wrote a note to Remus, thanking him for his help, and a note to Sirius, thanking him for the use of his bed. Then, Altair left.

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In the first month of school, Altair had slept in Sirius's bed eight times and in the common room eleven times. Not to mention the four mornings she found herself in Remus's bed. Altair was beyond tired of being kicked out of her room. She got up earlier than usual one morning, with a black hooded cloak, and headed to Professor McGonagall's office.

"Professor?" She knocked on the partially open door.

"Come in." The professor was sitting behind her desk, shuffling through papers. She looked up. "Ah, Miss Morten. What can I do for you?"

"It's about my room."

"Yes? What about it? Roommate troubles?"

"Not with my new ones." McGonagall raised an eyebrow. "I would like to assure you that if my relationship is so positive, then at most we are mild friends."

"Go on."

"In the past thirty days, I have awoken eleven times in the common room, and…." she thought of Sirius's reputation, "twelve times in the bed of Remus Lupin. He slept with Sirius or James. The other girls in my room do not care for me, nor do any of the other students, it appears. You are aware of my period of……shall we say, internment, at St. Caroline's Island?"

"I was made aware of it, yes."

"It seems so have they. I request to be moved to the old Owlery Tower, if possible. It _is_ in the Gryffindor sector of the castle." Professor McGonagall raised her eyebrows and scrutinized Altair.

"I will look into it. Now, on the other hand, your coming here means I don't have to call you in later. On the matter of your classes, you have some choices to make. You will be put into Advanced Potions, Advanced Charms, and you have a choice of Advanced Transfiguration or Ancient Runes."

"Um, will this affect my schedule?"

"No. For example, you have Transfiguration tomorrow, but you will have more work than the others, and harder spells."

"Oh. Umm…..wait, I have a choice?"

"Yes."

"Oh. …….Transfiguration, I suppose. My aunt is teaching me runes."

"Very well. You will remain in Divination. I hear you are doing very well in that class."

"I guess. I mean…I'm not bad at it?" McGonagall smiled at Altair's flustered state.

"Which brings me to my last point. Since the first day of the class, you have not attended Defense Against the Dark Arts. May I ask why?" Altair looked about the room.

"I'm not quite on speaking terms with my…uh…family. Cassiopeia, my aunt, is…" _Evil, dark witch, manipulative, venomous, disturbed!_ her inner self listed off. "not…a compatible match." she said. _Death Eater!_

"I see." came the reply. "Well, I can say nothing in her defense, but you do need to attend her class. I will check with Dumbledore about moving you." An unnoticed cat leapt onto the table.

"If-" Altair grabbed Machiavelli.

"Thank you, professor. I will attend her class today." she said quietly. Altair had gotten the Hogwarts emblem embroidered onto a black hooded cloak. Because it was still a little dark, Professor McGonagall had not noticed Altair was wearing a cloak, and was surprised when she pulled the hood up and left.

"What a strange girl…." McGonagall set off to Dumbledore's office.

Altair stopped by the kitchen to get breakfast like she usually did on the days she stayed the night with the Marauders. Linden met her with a tray of foods, and she took the plates, by use of magic, through the passages to the Common room. The Remus-look-alike charm. Up the stairs, through the portrait, up more stairs, and into their room.

"Ah, I see some people think they can fool me into thinking they're still sleeping." None of them moved. "James, you sleep facing the door. Sirius, you're in your _own bed_. Peter, peeping from under the blanket isn't fooling anyone. Remus, nice try, but your blanket is pulled up too far."

"Darn." James sat up and took his plate.

"C'mon! We were waiting to strike!" Sirius complained.

"How could you have expected _not_ to notice you _were_ in James's bed, and are now in your own?" Remus asked. He grabbed his plate floating toward him.

"So," Sirius started with his mouth full, "how do you get in and out of the kitchen?"

"_Pleeease_. Who do you think found most of the ways on the Marauder's map? After that, it's a Disillusionment Charm." Altair said, looking at a bottle of murky black liquid. She uncorked the bottle, sniffed it, and sighed, reluctantly taking a drink. Altair nearly dropped the bottle and hurled, but she managed to maintain her composure. Barely.

"I really wish you'd stop testing that gunk." Mac said from her side.

"Well, you're in luck, because there's only one possible combination left."

"Are you talking to that cat?" Peter asked.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"For the simple reason, my friend, I do most things."

"And why's that?"

"Insanity." Peter subconsciously edged away from her. "Well, I leave you in your various stages of eating, grogginess, and possible discomfort." Altair turned to go, but stopped. She turned back. "Oh, who has double Defense Against the Dark Arts today?" Sirius raised his hand. "I am sorry." She left. They looked at each other in confusion.


	6. Alice Martin, Reputed Werewolf Lover

Before her morning Herbology class, Altair hurried into the Forbidden Forest.

"I must have more business here than anyone who actually _lives_ here." she muttered.

"So about this….Sirius…." Mac said.

"What?"

"Do you like him? I mean, you seem to go to-"

"Mac, shut up before I turn you into a scarf. It's nothing. Like Remus, he's gone out of his way to be nice. I mean, the past month, he's given up his bed to me eight times. And seven of the eleven times I woke in the common room, I had either his blanket or his pillow. Twice it was both."

"Yes, but your first Divination class, you took the time to help him through Palmistry. Usually, Altair, you become very upset with people who mess up that badly." Mac jumped over a large protruding root.

"That's because it was Siriet's favourite pastime."

"And you need to be good at it because she was."

"Mind your own affairs." Altair grumbled.

"I'll mind mine and manage yours," the cat replied smartly, "since you don't seem to be able to."

"Machiavelli, you are the singularly most bothersome animal I have ever encountered."

"I try, my dear. I try…." They came to the place they were looking for.

* * *

Double Defense Against the Dark Arts class started off . . . . interestingly. Someone placed a Caterwauling Charm on the doorway, and no one seemed to be able to remove it. Sirius got tired of the constant noise, partially (mostly) because it wasn't his idea. He fetched Remus from his nearby Arithmancy class.

"I'm going to guess you're only irritated because this isn't your prank." Remus said boredly.

"Come on, Moony! My ego's not that big!" Sirius protested.

"Sirius, your ego's the size of a small country!" Remus shot back, exasperated. "Well, the charm's lifted. _I've_ got to get back to class." With that, the werewolf headed, overeagerly, back to his Arithmancy class. Sirius went back inside, prepared to smile at the 'F' he got on his test. Sure, he could have passed it, but the thought of doing well and falling into the professor's good graces appalled him. He sat down, and heard a whine of disappointment.

"What? You get a bad grade, too?" He noticed their black cloak. The teacher, a tall slender woman with long light brown hair pulled into a loose bun, walked in. Her thin black and purple cloak contrasted with light blue eyes.

"Good day. After you receive your piteous test results, we'll see if any of you are better in practice than in theory." the woman said in a soft voice.

"Altair?" Sirius asked quietly, like it might have been another dark haired girl in a hooded cloak.

"Mmphf." She made an effort to pronounce every syllable. Machiavelli sunk under Altair's chair. Professor Morten passed papers out to everyone, including Altair. She had signed her name Alice Martin, and the professor marked her paper with an A. Sirius was flabbergasted. Not to say he actually _knew_ what a flabber or a gast was, but he had heard Remus use the term to describe an appropriately even amount of shock and confusion. At the top of his test, centered and perfectly scribed, was the letter 'B'.

"This test," Professor Morten explained, "was charmed so that you could not cheat, or purposely fail. If you knew the material, you passed. "Winging it" does not work in this class." She came to rest by her desk. "So." she said sharply. "Now, in case of a werewolf attack, what do you do?" One girl raised her hand.

"Run?"

"No. You want it to catch you and tear you into pieces?"

"No….I just…."

"You would be dead. Next?" Sirius raised his hand.

"Stun it!"

"Why would you do a thing like that?" she asked.

"It might be someone you know."

"No one associates with werewolves, Mr. Black. Werewolves don't even associate with werewolves." Altair's insides tightened at the thought of Remus.

"Well, werewolves can't be that bad. Vampires are tolerable, and banshees are useful sometimes. Dementors even have jobs." he stood up to solidify his claim.

"Werewolves are rude, ignorant, smelly creatures with no manners. They have no place in society."

"That's not true!" Altair shouted. Sirius jumped; the loudest he ever heard her talk was….about one fifth of that volume. "I mean . . . . " she quieted, "Mrs. Stella Alectros was an intelligent woman raised as royalty. Connor Truesdale the third owned a goat farm, but smelled neither before or _after_ his transformation. The recently deceased Alizari Lincotta was _born_ a werewolf, and won prizes for her clever abilities and diplomatic work." she finished calmly. Unamused, Professor Morten raised an eyebrow.

"Miss Martin, you……" she squinted slightly. "You look familiar. Did you previously attend Drakard Academy?"

"No." Altair replied, voice shaky.

"As I thought." Professor Morten made a move to turn, but whipped around, brandishing her wand. "_Alice_, would you kindly inform the class what the procedure for a werewolf attack is?"

"Well, if there's an area with a confirmed werewolf, you shouldn't be there to begin with. However," she added quickly, "in the event of an unfortold werewolf attack, a stupefication spell is to be used. From there, if you intend to keep said lycanthrope alive, use a sleeping charm. If your intent is to kill, well……there is a wide array of spells to kill someone." Altair was very uncomfortable. Every mention of werewolves or lycanthropes was plagued by thoughts of Remus. She sat down.

"Hm. Not bad. Class," she said harshly, "I need to fetch the required items for our next activity. Take out your text books and read chapter seventeen." The students complied, and Professor Morten left the room.

"I don't think she's supposed to leave us alone." one girl whispered to her friend. The chapter was on attacks by various creatures and the spells to use on them. From vampires, werewolves, and merfolk, to pixies, basilisks, chimera, and dragons. Altair wondered exactly _how_ they were going to test this outside of theory. She didn't have to kill a werewolf, did she? Altair let out a whimper of sorts, illustrating concern, displeasure, and confusion.

"What's going on, do you know?" Sirius asked.

"Professor Morten," Altair whispered, "is my aunt. I'm _sure_ she's got something nasty planned, but I don't know what it is. You mean she hasn't done anything like this yet this year?"

"No. So far, she's been rude-"

"She's _always_ rude! Mean, sadistic, snobbish, callous-" Machiavelli put his front paws on Sirius's seat, eyes wide in desperation. Altair grabbed him.

"Hush!"

"I'm going to assume your family reunions aren't the brightest occasions." Sirius said.

"Blacker than black." Altair grumbled quietly.

"I don't know. Ours aren't that great, either." he replied. Altair raised an eyebrow as Sirius grinned, then shook her head.

"You come up with the worst puns." she said, stroking Mac's chest to calm him.

"I believe that was your pun, insisting your reunions are worse."

"The last reunion I attended landed me on St. Caroline's Island." A few moments of silence ensued.

"You win." Everyone sat quietly, reading the chapter as fast as they could, in case some punishment would be inflicted for not finishing. A loud yowling could be heard from down the hall. The students looked about nervously. Another yell, closer. Finally, the great wooden doors swung open, loosing another wait. Someone, at some time, had placed a Caterwauling Charm in the hall and on the door, after the professor left. Professor Morten had a large wardrobe on wheels behind her.

"Oh my." Mac said. "Al, I think that's Merlin's Trunk."

"Oh dear." she turned to Sirius. "My name is Alice Martin. Remember it." Mac jumped down and hid under her chair. Professor Morten pulled the wardrobe to the front of the room.

"Students, gather your belongings and stand." she said. The children scrambled to stack their parchment, ink, and quill while balancing their textbooks. Professor Morten flicked her wand and the tables and chairs disappeared. "This is what is known as Merlin's Trunk. Inside are things you have never seen, and things you will never see again." She undid the two belts around it, opened five locks, and flipped seven clasps before pulling the sides open. Inside the trunk, two drawers shook. There were brightly coloured robes and scarves, hanging in the main part of the wardrobe. On the left side that swung out were drawers. The other side held glass shelves on which sat glass jars, vials, and bottles. An intricately carved silver jewelry box sat on the bottom shelf. The professor picked out several perfume bottles with glass stoppers. She opened one of the shaking drawers and removed a small wooden box.

"Put your belongings on that side of the room and line up right here." The students did as they were told, lining up in front of the straight haired woman. Altair muttered a charm that would make her appear to have blonde hair and blue eyes. Mac sat himself between Sirius's stack of papers/books and Altair's bag.

xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx

Indigo Willison looked from her book to the board in the front of the class. There was _some_ connection between these numbers, but only Hell knew what it was. Damned if she cared to figure it out. This weird guy next to her was scribbling like mad, taking note- no, he was _copying_ the _entire_ board. If _that_ didn't scream "I have no life" to the rest of the world. Indigo imagined if her thoughts were a story, there would be a lot of italics. Yes, a _lot_. The guy next to her looked like he knew what he was listening to.

"Hey," she whispered, "do you know what he's saying? I don't get it."

"Yeah. Using the equations at the top, you can turn the numbers in the chart into amounts of mugwort to use in a Soporific Brew related to the amount of belladonna in the counter draft." he replied. Indigo held her hand out.

"Indigo Willison." Her cinnamon coloured hair fell around her shoulders.

"Remus Lupin." They shook hands.

* * *

**So that last bit was...okay, I guess. Alright, so this chapter wasn't as awesome as I had hoped, but I couldn't think of anything else for now. I'll do some sort of brain storming, probably involving caffiene, pasta, cats, and candy. Love candy.**

**Thank you Freakstar and BrokliManda for reviewing! I don't think there were as many one-liners this time, though. Till next chapter!**


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